The Demon King's First General
Chapter 189: Own Accord

Chapter 189: Own Accord

Cinhard felt a lump stuck in his throat as he found it difficult to swallow while Eimereen’s mouth was left partially open.

They were stunned by the silver-haired demon’s performance. It was their first time witnessing such a phenomenon.

’I-Is this his real strength?’ Eimereen thought.

The shards around her disappeared as a shiver ran down her spine. She had the ability to fight against a hundred as well, but to destroy them at the same time in less than a few seconds was beyond her comprehension.

Then, she was pulled away from her thoughts when an invisible force assaulted her and took away her freedom to move. Like what happened to the previous demons, she found herself suspended up in the air along with Cinhard.

The Demon King tried to twitch his fingers and his tails as well, but even his eye movements were restricted. He felt like his body was trapped in a tight space with no way out.

The next second, they were hurled, lying sideways in front of the silver-haired demon. Cinhard was at the center while Eimereen was on his right and the only one who survived from the slaughter; Liehj was on the other side.

Zeno gave each of them a cold glance, then his dull eyes stared at the three-horned demon.

"For Uoiea," he uttered.

Without doing anything, Liehj’s limbs were ripped in half, his flesh was shredded into minced meat, and his bones were pulverized into dust.

His blood and other bodily fluids splattered on Cinhard’s side. Liehj’s superior regeneration turned into a mere joke in front of the soul devourer.

Furious about his companion’s death, Cinhard summoned all of his strength to break free from the unknown force that held him captive.

Afterward, another furry tail began to protrude behind his back, and a burst of blue flames shot towards the silver-haired demon.

The sudden attack did no harm, but it was enough to make his mind falter for a second, giving Cinhard and Eimereen the chance to be released from his grasp.

Zeno extended his hand and tried to regain his control, but a sudden pain coming from inside his head made him fall on his knees.

’Damn this!’ He cussed in his thoughts.

Cinhard felt surprised upon seeing Zeno’s current state, but it was a chance he must not let go.

Thus, he unleashed his Legacy, and darkness began to stretch once again, but this time, it was a little different. Instead of spreading across the sky, it rushed towards the silver-haired demon and started to form a sphere around him.

Zeno’s eyes widened; he stood up with the use of his scythe as a support. Despite his head still spinning in circles due to the backlash of using Ezreil’s Curse, he still activated Leodegario’s domain to cancel the darkness surrounding him.

Seconds after, the Demon King’s Legacy began to tremble from the inside.

"No! I’m not done yet!" Cinhard yelled, screaming out of his lungs.

Then, dark chains began to wrap around the sphere, preventing the darkness from shattering. The shackles continued to encircle until the resistance came to a halt and the prison stabilized.

The Demon King struck his sword on the ground to prevent himself from falling. Beads of sweat rolled down on his forehead while his hands were still shaking from fear and the thought of failure.

After catching some breath, he raised his head and stared at the sphere, a prison made from the absolute darkness.

"I’d never thought that I’d be using your own teaching to deal against you," Cinhard stated; there was a palpable bitterness in his voice.

Then, Eimereen walked a little closer to him.

"I congratulate the Lord for his victory," she stated in a monotonous tone.

However, Cinhard ignored her greeting. After all, he never won; it was a clear loss for him. Arthur’s strength was far beyond his expectations, and it left a deep scar in his pride.

’I’m the Demon King and yet... Pathetic,’ he thought, clenching his fist in disappointment.

His palm bled as his long nails burrowed into his skin. Then, after pitying himself for how weak he was, he extended his hand and retracted the prison of darkness.

The process went smoothly as it shrank in size before it disappeared into nothingness; Cinhard was about to turn around when he noticed two small objects lying on the ground.

He picked them up with his tails and placed it on his palm. Then he shook his head, and his laughter reverberated across the ravaged landscape.

"So I managed to, because it was your own accord, huh, Arthur?" Cinhard blurted out.

. . . . .

A few moments ago, inside the sphere of darkness, when the soul devourer was busy repelling the prison, a sudden thought came into his mind.

Once he broke free, he would definitely kill Cinhard, but after that, he was left with nothing. Living in a world without Uoiea was a reality he never wanted and would never accept.

"Maybe it’s better this way," Zeno uttered.

He already exacted his revenge against Liehj, the demon who took away Uoiea’s life, though Cinhard was to blame as well. He also knew that he had his own fault for his lover’s death.

’If I arrived a little sooner—no, if I didn’t leave or if I returned on the day I promised, maybe she would not step on the battlefield; maybe she would still be alive by now,’ he pondered.

Regrets started to eat his line of thinking, and he stopped resisting the darkness. Afterward, he plucked the red dice from his ear while the jet-black scythe returned to its cube-like state.

With the use of Leodegario’s Legacy, he created a small hole in the sphere enough for the dice to fit in. Then, he threw them out to prevent himself from accidentally destroying and escaping the prison.

Afterward, he let his body succumb to darkness; he accepted it as his fate, as his punishment for failing to protect the person he cherished the most.

. . . . .

On that day, the war between humans and demons came to a temporary end. Krizler, who survived and witnessed everything, brought the princess’ dead body back to the palace.

The empire mourned for her death along with the countless soldiers who sacrificed their lives in the battle. They were treated as heroes who stopped the demon’s invasion.

Then, a week later, Augustus Embercrown returned along with his injured knights, only to see their youngest lying inside a casket.

He felt his strength leaving his body while his hands trembled nonstop. They were forced to retreat and went into hiding for a few days, which paved the path for the demon army’s advance.

"No one wanted this to happen," the empress stated and embraced her son from behind.

However, her words weren’t enough for the man not to shed some tears.

Uoiea’s cremation ceremony happened in the afternoon of that day; purple flames were set ablaze and turned the whole casket on fire.

The smell of burning flesh assaulted everyone’s nose, but they paid it no mind as the feeling of sadness loomed greater on their hearts.

It took a quarter of an hour before the princess’ body turned into cinders. The imperial family oversaw the collection of her ashes, and when a servant was putting them inside a porcelain urn, she noticed a square-like object hidden beneath the residue.

Thus, she picked it up thinking that it was just a piece of bone, but to her surprise it was not, so she turned around and called the empress’ attention.

"Your Majesty, I found it undamaged from the fire; I believe it came from the princess’ bracelet," she stated with politeness while showing the white dice resting on her palm.

. . . . .

In the Forest of Nightmares where the Demon King resided, Cinhard stared into nothingness while sitting on his throne; on his hand were dice fidgeting between his fingertips.

After his battle against the soul devourer, he lost his interest in conquering the world. He couldn’t even unleash his Legacy, afraid that he might accidentally free Arthur from imprisonment.

His defeat left a deep impression on his mind that even if he managed to make the entirety of Exgreia bow before him, he knew that true victory could only be obtained by crushing Arthur in a duel.

But that was nowhere near to happen; his current abilities weren’t even on par with what his general had shown him, and he wasn’t even sure if it was already the peak of his strength.

Thus, with his cane alone, he stood up from his throne and set on a journey to reach the zenith of his existence.

. . . . .

Five hundred years later, in front of the Demon King’s palace, a man with cyan-blue eyes halted his steps and stared at the massive structure.

"I’m back," Cinhard stated, his hair that reached the length of his shoulders swaying in the cold breeze.

It was peaceful, though the deafening silence along with the shade of dark clouds made the atmosphere quite eerie and haunting.

The Demon King walked towards the hallway; his eyes wandered around the palace’s interior.

"Eimereen did well in maintaining this place; I thought that it was already reduced into rubble," he uttered, smiling.

After a few strides, he noticed a woman standing with her back facing him near the corridor. Her long, straight hair exuded elegance while her black dress showcased her hourglass figure.

’Eimereen? No, she smells different,’ Cinhard thought.

Then, he continued to walk forward and let his footsteps be heard. Seconds later, the woman noticed his presence, so she turned around and gave him a greeting.

"White hair, cyan-blue eyes... You must be the Lord; it’s a pleasure to meet you," she stated while lowering her head out of respect.

"Who are you? Where’s Eimereen?" Cinhard asked, staring at her.

Crimson eyes like blood and skin as pale as snow were the traits that caught his attention.

’A vampire,’ he thought.

Then, he felt surprised upon hearing the woman’s chuckle.

"Please forgive this servant for the late introduction, My Lord. Lady Eimereen left a hundred years ago and assigned me as the Lord’s new advisor," the vampire said, smiling.

Then she stepped forward and knelt with one of her knees.

"The name is Anelia... Anelia de Stygia," she added.

For some reason, Cinhard felt a different kind of warmth on his chest while staring at her contagious smile.

Little did he know, an unknown feeling of adoration began to sprout, and the rest was history.

. . . . .